


Racing the Rain

by KellerKnits



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Happy Ending, Oral Sex, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-02 03:26:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16778668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KellerKnits/pseuds/KellerKnits
Summary: Back when he was about 21, Arthur had an experience in the desert that stays with him throughout the years. Even a decade later, he’s still not sure if he dreamed it or not. He never told a soul, not even Hosea.





	1. The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to American Money by BORNS, and this just jumped into my head.

Arthur rides through the desert west of Blackwater on his big blue roan stallion, Ares. He is looking for desert sage and prairie poppies for some concoction Uncle has brewing up back home. He has been out since sunrise, and it’s now closing in on dusk. He has not found much.

He daydreams as he rides, cues from his hands and legs keeping Ares on course almost as an afterthought. He has reached his full height, several inches taller than Dutch. The disparity secretly pleases him. He knows that he will probably fill out over the next few years and become what Uncle calls ‘a real bull’. This also pleases him. The idea of being Dutch’s muscle, his right hand, is all Arthur has wanted since Dutch and Hosea picked him up as a skinny, starving kid of fourteen. 

He looks up at the sky and lets out a low whistle between his teeth. Black clouds are piling up, lighting rolling and flashing within them. It’s going to rain like a sonovabitch here shortly, and he does not want to be caught out in it. There is a small abandoned home not far back, with a barn for Ares. He should head there soon. As he begins to turn Ares, lightning cracks. The stallion whinnies and dances sideways. As Arthur quickly corrects the horse he sees quick motion out of the corner of his eye. He turns to look, and is stunned into stillness for a moment. 

A person is falling from the sky, dark hair and a white garment streaming behind them, whipping and fluttering in the air. The fall is quick, and the landing sends a hollow boom shaking out through the land, rumbling under Ares’ hooves. 

Almost without thought, Arthur squeezes his legs into Ares’ sides, urging him forward, toward where the stranger landed. He can still see the large plume of dust the person kicked up, although it is quickly being ripped to tatters by the rising wind. He is sure the person is dead. No one could survive a fall like that. And yet, he goes to investigate, the urge worrying at him like he would worry a splinter in his finger. 

He pulls Ares up short several minutes later on the edge of a crater, and slides off before the stallion even stops moving. He throws his reins on the ground and murmurs “Stay here, boy”, before venturing into the crater. 

The sides are steep, and rocks and dirt cascade away to the bottom under his boots. He steadies himself with a hand on the wall and still almost falls several times as he scrabbles down. 

The person looks unharmed. They are whole, and Arthur can see no blood. They are laying with their back turned to him, but the shape and the long, dark hair suggest a woman. 

“Miss? You okay miss?” He tries to sound gruff and authoritative, like he isn’t scared of anyone or anything. Still, maybe he should be scared. He has never seen anyone fall from the sky before. He approaches her with his right hand on his gun. He crouches carefully and gives her a gentle shake with his other hand. 

To his shock, the woman makes a soft groaning sound and rolls onto her back. Her eyes are closed, sooty black eyelashes resting on her cheeks. Arthur thinks that this might be the prettiest girl he’s seen in a while...nevermind the strange circumstances of her appearance. 

“Miss?” He reaches out to shake her again, but there is a crack of lightning as soon as he touches her. It is close and dangerous, charging the air around them with electricity. 

She cries out as the lightning strikes, her eyes flying open. They immediately lock onto Arthur, and he jumps backward so quick he almost falls on his ass. Her eyes are impossibly bright green, lit from within and glowing like a radium watch dial. Arthur raises his gun to defend himself from the strange apparition...but then she blinks, and her eyes are a normal, faded green, like a dollar bill. 

The girl sits up and wraps her arms around herself. She is shivering and looking at the clouds in wide-eyed terror. She points to the sky, then holds out her hand to Arthur. 

“Please,” she says quietly, “Help.” Her voice sounds strange as well, as though someone is playing chimes behind each of her words. 

Arthur holsters his gun quickly and helps her up. Her eyes threw him for a moment, but he knows that you can see strange things under stress and writes it off as his brain playing tricks on him. There are more important things to consider than her eyes right now anyway. 

They climb the wall of the crater together. Arthur has to help her several times with his hands on her waist. She is very warm, and he wonders if she is sick with something and has a fever. They finally reach Ares, who has stayed as instructed. Arthur digs an old blanket out of the stallion’s saddle bag and wraps the girl in it. She squeezes her eyes shut and ducks every time thunder rumbles.

He lifts the girl up onto Ares’s rump. While he usually doesn’t like carrying anyone but Arthur, the stallion is thankfully quiet about the extra passenger. Arthur swings up into the saddle and reaches back for the girl’s arms. She gets the point quickly, and wraps her arms around him, holding onto the fabric of his shirt in clenched fists. She is strong, despite her wiry frame. He turns back in the direction of the abandoned homestead. Right now the priority was getting all of them out of this oncoming storm. He could think about the rest later. 

The first drops of rain hits them, and he feels the girl bury her face in his back. He spurs Ares into a canter, then a gallop as the lightning booms closer. It feels like racing the rain, his horse breathing like bellows beneath him, the girl clinging to his back. The air he draws into his lungs is heavy and electric and he whoops with the sheer joy of this strange day.


	2. Shelter

They reach the house quickly. Ares is a very fast horse when he wants to be. They slow to a stop in front of the porch. Arthur draws his gun and gestures for both the horse and girl to stay put while he checks the house for dangers. The worst thing he finds is that a corner of the roof has fallen in, but it is far enough away from the fireplace that there shouldn’t be a problem. There is even a squeaky bed for the lady. Arthur is well used to sleeping on the ground. 

He returns to them and lifts her off the horse, bundling her into the house like a bride. He sets her down in front of the fireplace and goes back outside in the strengthening rain to see to Ares. 

When Ares is tucked into the small barn, still dry and warm despite years of neglect, Arthur returns to the house. As he sets down the saddebags, he is surprised and pleased to see that the girl has started a fire. It is small yet, but she has found a good supply of dry wood, and she keeps feeding it bigger and bigger pieces while pausing to warm her hands. Arthur strips out of his sodden jacket and joins her. 

They sit quietly for a while. Arthur doesn’t know what to say. How do you ask a girl why she fell out of the sky? Or why her eyes glow like lightbulbs? He certainly can’t think of a way, so he just doesn’t. 

His stomach grumbles, and he digs through the saddlebags. A short search turns up a tin of beans, several large strips of elk jerky, and some crackers. Not great, but better than nothing. He goes into the kitchen and locates a likely looking pot. He brushes the dirt and spiderwebs out of it and figures it’s good enough. Not like they have a lot of water to wash with, just what’s in his waterskins. 

He hangs the pot on the fire, knifes open the can of beans, and dumps them in. The girl gets up and finds a large wooden spoon in the kitchen and comes back to stir them. They eat in silence, sharing out the food between them. Every time lightning strikes outside, the girl shivers. 

With dinner done, Arthur decides it’s time for some answers. He’s finally thought of at least a few questions that don’t sound ridiculous. He leans back on his elbow and looks at the girl. She is watching the fire, her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them. The blanket is draped around her like a shroud. 

“What’s your name, girl?” 

She looks at him at the sound of his voice, but her blank expression shows him that she doesn’t understand. 

“Your name?” He tries again. He points at himself, touching his chest with a finger. “I’m Arthur, you are…?” He points at her. 

“Arthur.” She says, her voice musical and unnerving at the same time. 

Arthur sighs and shakes his head. She looks at him, her eyes sad, and he reaches out to pat her hand. 

“It’s okay, I know you don’t understand. I just wanted to know your name and where the hell you came from.” 

She nods as he speaks. When he is done, she points to him. 

“Arthur.” She points out the window, where the rain is lashing down. “Help.” And then she points at herself. It takes him a minute, but Arthur thinks he follows. 

“Yeah, I helped you out of the storm. Couldn’t just leave you there.” 

She offers him a pretty smile, her green eyes crinkling up at the corners. 

They stay by the fire until the rest of the house warms up, then Arthur makes up his bedroll on the floor next to the bed. He is exhausted from riding all day and the adrenaline dump of finding the girl and racing the storm. He gestures to the bed, and the girl lays down on it, curling herself into a tight cocoon of the old horse blanket. If it is scratchy, she does not seem to mind. Arthur barely gets off his boots and gunbelt before he passes out.


	3. Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the smut, finally.

He wakes a few hours later. The fire has shrunk down to embers, and he is cold. He shivers, working himself up to throwing off the blanket and putting more wood on. Before he can move, the girl passes between him and the fire, rendering her a silhouette. She bends and selects several logs, arranging them carefully. She crouches in front of the fire to watch it grow, seemingly unaware of Arthur watching her. She is only wearing the white garment, which he can now see is a short, thin sleeveless dress. He can see the outline of her figure through the fabric, and feels his body begin to respond. 

Other than a whore Dutch buys him every year for his birthday, Arthur does not have much experience with women. This is mostly due to not liking to pay for sex, but Arthur is also very busy with the needs of the gang. And most respectable ladies don’t really want to be seen with an outlaw anyway. 

He curses his body silently and quickly drops his hat over his eyes and pretends to be asleep. He does not need to be caught leering at a woman he barely knows. 

It seems like she knows anyway though, because she comes over to him and skims the blanket back, sitting lightly astride his hips. He starts and looks up at her in the light of the fire. She is smiling, her dark curls cascading over her shoulder nearly to her waist. She lifts the rim of his hat to better see his face, then gently removes it and sets it aside. Her fingers comb through his faded gold hair and he closes his eyes in pleasure. It has been a long time since someone touched him this tenderly. 

“Arthur.” She says softly, musically, and kisses him. It starts chaste, but she soon tries to get her tongue into his mouth, and he lets her with a soft groan. Her mouth is sweet, like she has just eaten a spoonful of honey. His hands come up to touch her, stroking her arms and pressing against her back to hold her close. 

He doesn’t know how long they kiss, tongues darting, teeth nipping, but the spell is broken when she guides his hands to her legs. She is lightly holding onto his ribs with her thighs, and he is reminded again of the strength in that slim body. Her skin is pale and warm, like she has been sitting in a hot bathtub for the last hour. She encourages him to slide his hands higher, finding her hips. The dress is pushed ahead of his hands, revealing a dark swatch of hair between her legs. He decides that the dress has been in his way long enough and runs his hands up her sides, feeling her ribs against his rough palms. She lifts her arms for him, and he skims the dress off over her head, throwing it into the darkness of the house. 

She is naked astride him now, and he is fully clothed, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. On the contrary, she seems to like showing off, and arches her back, offering him her breasts. 

He’d be a fool not to take what’s offered, he thinks, and cups them with both hands. They are fairly small, with pink nipples that quickly harden into points at the brush of his thumbs. She hums in pleasure and grinds against the hard ridge of his erection through his jeans, making him gasp. 

He sits up to reach her better and tangles one big hand in her long fall of hair, cupping the back of her head. He kisses her again, rough and eager, sliding his tongue inside to claim her mouth. Her hands touch his broad shoulders, run down his arms, and eventually find the buttons on his shirt. She makes quick work of them and shoves his shirt off over his shoulders, like she can’t wait to get her hands on more of his bare skin. 

Arthur shrugs the rest of the way out of his shirt and pulls her close, chest to chest. Holding her like this is like standing too close to a fire on a warm night. He feels sweat begin to pop out on his skin as he moves his mouth down the slender column of her throat. He nips, drawing his teeth over her skin, not caring if he leaves marks. It seems she doesn’t care either, she makes no effort to move away. He moves his head down and takes one of her nipples into his mouth and sucks, rolling it over his tongue. This earns him another of those humming moans he likes. 

Then suddenly, she is pushing him down onto his back. He goes, but stays propped on one elbow to watch what she’s up to. She shimmies down a little and frees the buttons of his fly with a quickness. He lifts his hips to help her as she pulls his pants down to his knees. His cock is pulled up by the fabric, then released, hitting his stomach with a heavy ‘thwack’ noise. She giggles at it, but Arthur doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed. She curls one small hand around him and strokes gently. He groans and lets his head drop back, looking at the ceiling and trying to catch his breath. He wants this to last, but he’s not sure how long he’ll be able to hold out. 

Then another gasp is torn from him as he feels wetness and burning heat bathe the head of his cock. He looks down and she has her lips wrapped around him. He stares in wonder- no one has ever done this to him before. He’s heard of it, sure, but experiencing it is like someone telling you about a meteor shower and actually seeing it yourself. 

She looks up at him and her eyes are that lit-from-within green again, but he can’t bring himself to give a shit. Her tongue is swirling softly around the most sensitive part of him, and her eyes are the least of his worries. At first she keeps shallow, moving her mouth over the tip and covering the rest of him with her hand. Arthur moans and his hips twitch involuntarily as she takes him deeper, until he bumps against the back of her throat. She swallows, and the slick undulating movement draws another moan out of him. She begins to bob her head, swirling her tongue around the head when she has him most of the way out, then back to gently forcing him as deep as he’ll go. 

It is ecstasy, and Arthur wants it to last forever. The rising tension curling in his belly lets him know that all good things must come to an end, and he tugs desperately at her hair, urging her to stop. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t think he’s capable of stringing a sentence together right now, and knows she won’t understand him even if he could. 

She doesn’t stop. If anything, she speeds up, her hands and tongue urging him on, wanting to see him fall off that edge. A few moments later, he gives her what she wants with a cry, his hips snapping up, thrusting helplessly into her mouth. His vision goes white and pleasure spikes again as he feels her throat work, swallowing his spend. She slowly releases him from her mouth and lays her head on his hip, kissing him gently as he recovers. He cracks open one eye to look at her and she grins, sitting up and wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. She finds a trace there and laps it up, her pink tongue darting out of her mouth. Arthur’s cock twitches at the sight. 

She snuggles in next to him as he kicks his pants the rest of the way off and draws the blanket over the both of them. He curls his arm around her and she rests her head on his shoulder. 

“Arthur.” She says happily, and he laughs and kisses her forehead. 

“Yep, that’s me, darlin’.” 

He dozes for a while, and when he wakes again, she is throwing another piece of wood on the fire, naked this time. She comes back to him and straddles his hips. He is surprised to find that he is hard again, but doesn’t look that particular gift horse in the mouth for too long, because she is grinding against him. Her cunt is already wet, and she slides up and down his length, breathing heavily. 

He takes her hips in his big hands and guides her to rise up on her knees a bit. She reaches between them and takes hold of his cock, rubbing the head in a tight circle between her legs, making sure he is slick with her. 

Then, long muscles in her thighs quivering, she lets him pierce her, sinking down onto him until they are pressed fully together. Arthur literally cannot catch his breath for a moment. If he thought her skin was warm, her mouth hot, her cunt is like a furnace that has been stoked to glowing. He thrusts up into her and she rides it, her head rolling back, radium eyes fluttering closed. 

He quickly rolls her onto her back and hitches one of her legs up around his waist. He holds most of his weight off her at first, but she pulls him closer, wanting to be touching bare skin head to toe. He tries to keep his thrusts slow and measured, and it works for a while. Then she begins to lift her hips in time, gasping or sighing with every thrust, and his control loosens a little. He lets himself thrust harder, pounding into her. She grips him with her thighs, arms around his neck, mouth open and eyes closed in bliss. 

He leans back a little and reaches between them, feeling for her little pearl. He finds it and rubs circles over it with his thumb and she arches her back like a drawn bow, crying out. A few more seconds of this and she comes apart under his hands, shaking like a leaf, her cunt gripping him like a vice. She so tight now that she’s hard to move in, and Arthur comes shortly after, biting her shoulder to muffle his cries as he spills into her. 

They sleep again, but he wakes several more times in the night. She is always awake as well, and he has her in almost every way it is possible for a man to have a woman. Their last encounter happens as dawn breaks, and as he drifts off, he thinks that he will sleep a few hours, then get her up and get back to Blackwater, see if they can find out where she belongs. The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes is her peaceful smile, her fingers running through his hair.


	4. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur wakes up alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is short, it's really just a transition.

Arthur wakes up to the sound of an irritated whinny with a start. It takes him a few moments to place himself in time and space. Judging by the shadows in the house, it is noon or close to it. The day is clear and the shadows are dark and crisp. He is naked in his bedroll, sticky with sweat and other fluids. He is alone. There is no sign of the girl. 

He gets up and dresses slowly. For as little sleep and as much sex as he had last night, he should feel like the walking dead, but he feels better than he has in months, more clear-headed, more energetic. He packs the rest of his gear and goes to head out the front door. There is something caught on a nail there, and he pauses to look. It’s a scrap of the girl’s dress, left here like a token for him to find. He plucks it off the nail, finds his journal, and tucks it in for safekeeping. 

Another shock greets him when he opens the door. In the small field in front of the house, there is a thick carpet of plants growing that were not there last night. Among them are desert sage and prairie poppies. Shaking his head, he gathers them into neat bundles and ties them with twine. 

He fetches Ares from the barn, feeds him his very late breakfast, and saddles him up. He loads up the plants and walks Ares back toward the front door. There is a small set of footprints in the wet ground, and he follows them carefully out into the desert for about a quarter of a mile. The last set of prints that he can see, the girl was standing with her feet together. And then, nothing. He makes increasingly wider circles around the last tracks, hoping to pick up her trail again, but there is nothing, and nothing, and nothing. 

Finally he sighs, swings up onto Ares, and heads back toward Blackwater. He should be there by sunset, and Uncle will be happy with his haul.


	5. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How it all ends.

He thinks about her less often as the years go by. Sometimes he even manages to convince himself that the whole night was nothing but a dream. Breathed in too much sage dust, or something. But he still hangs onto that tiny scrap of dress, still looks at it from time to time and wonders where his green-eyed girl is, what she’s doing. He never expects to see her again. 

Arthur’s life is full of the unexpected though, so he shouldn’t feel surprised to see her again. He just never thought it would be when he was dying.   
He lays in the snowbank where John and the others left him, struggling hard to get a proper breath. Mostly he coughs, the red mist from his mouth soaking into the front of his shirt. He really wishes he would get on with the dying part, because otherwise he’s going to have to come up with some kind of plan to get his sorry hide off this mountain. He can see that the sun is coming up, and it’s going to be a really pretty sunrise. He hopes he can hold on long enough to see it. 

He closes his eyes, just to rest, he tells himself. When he opens them again, the sun is almost up, and she is kneeling beside him in her white sleeveless dress, her face just as he remembers it all those years ago. She has not changed a bit, but her radium dial eyes are glowing, and she looks sad. 

“Oh, Arthur.” She says, and he is knocked for a loop hearing her chiming voice again. “What has happened to you, my darling?” 

He blinks and reaches a hand up to touch her face. She leans her cheek into his touch, thawing his frozen fingers with the heat coming off her. 

“You...learned English.” He coughs out. He is entranced by her, but most of him still thinks this is some death vision, not really happening. He is alone on the mountainside. 

“I am here. I am real.” 

He doesn’t know if he had spoken his doubt aloud or if she read his mind, but he doesn’t care much either way. She takes his hand and presses it to her chest, where he can feel her heart beating. 

“Your name?” He asks, wanting to know before death comes for him. Or maybe she is death? 

She laughs, amused at the run of his thoughts. “Not death either. My name is...difficult, for your people. Do you have something you called me?” 

Arthur realizes that she is not speaking English after all, but he can understand her perfectly. 

He coughs and gathers his breath, still brushing his fingers over her cheek. “Just always thought of you as Sage. Cause of your eyes.” 

She smiles. “I like that very much.” 

She takes his hand and stands up, pulling on him gently. He sits up and immediately doubles over into a coughing fit. When he is finally able to take a breath, she speaks again, and this time the musicality of her voice is overlaid with concern. 

“Come with us, Arthur. We can make you whole again.” 

He sees a small oval window open in the sky behind her, glowing the brightest green he’s ever seen. It’s like her eyes times a thousand. She is smiling now, and kisses his palm. 

“You saved me once. I would have died in that storm. Now let me save you, Arthur.” 

He shrugs. He knows there’s no saving him, but if she wants him to go with her, well why not? Better to die in her company than alone on the side of a mountain, thinking about his failures. 

She helps him stand and walk to the oval window, facing him the whole while. A few steps away from where he had collapsed, he feels a painless pop, like when someone gets the cork out of a wine bottle. He can suddenly breathe with ease, and the taste of blood is gone from his mouth. He stands up straight for what feels like the first time in months. He looks back and sees himself lying in the snow, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and the corner of one eye. 

Her hand gently turns his face to look at her again. Her expression is sad but determined. 

“Your body is dying. I can’t heal your body, but if you come with me, you’ll live on. Please come with me.” 

He looks back and forth between his dying body and her face and finally nods. He pauses for a moment just in front of the glowing oval. 

“Before I go, I gotta ask...are you one of those aliens that the crazy cult in the woods was on about?” 

She laughs joyously, and the sound makes his heart leap. 

“That’s what your people call us, yes.” 

She takes both of his hands and steps backwards through the oval. She kisses him, disappearing at the waist into another world. 

“Come with me, Arthur. Let me show you what paradise looks like.” 

“Well, can’t get much better than that, huh?”

He steps through the portal after her and it shrinks down, coalescing into a bright point of light that pops out of existence a moment later. 

Arthur’s body, all that is left of him in this world, takes a breath, lets it out, and does not take another. He is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading this, it got into my head and I couldn't get it out. Please message me if there's something else you'd like to see. -Joy


End file.
